


Two-Stage Reaction

by Laylah



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist
Genre: Crossover, M/M, Power Dynamics, Stranger in a Strange Land, Threesome, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-07-16
Updated: 2008-07-16
Packaged: 2017-10-21 11:16:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/224582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laylah/pseuds/Laylah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Blood and ashes,” Yuber purred, leaning in close. “Like a killer. Like a battlefield.” His fingers curled in Kimberly’s shirt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two-Stage Reaction

“So,” Kimberly said, when the strategist stalked out to review the details of the message that had just come in, “are you fucking him?”

Yuber smiled, and his cat eye glittered as he looked over in Kimberly’s direction. “Not at the moment,” he answered blithely. “Why, do you want to watch next time?”

“Couldn’t care less,” Kimberly lied, making a mental note to consider that image later. “Just wanted to know how upset you’ll be when I do.”

“Ah.” Yuber tilted his head consideringly. “I probably won’t kill you. For that.”

Kimberly shrugged. “What more can a man hope for?”

*

The next few days didn’t offer many opportunities. The Harmonian army, which was the force that Albert supported and Yuber found entertaining, had apparently suffered an embarrassingly severe defeat at the hands of people that Yuber called grasslanders and the regular troops called barbarians. The political subtleties were a little difficult to pick up on the fly, but the urgency was clear — they weren’t reporting back to their superiors, just marching onward, doing their best to regroup on the way to Duck Village, wherever that was, for the next battle. It had been a damn long time since Kimberly had seen this much physical activity, not the quick rush of battle like in Lior but the endless dragging exhaustion of the days _between_ battles. He spent a lot of time wishing someone in this godforsaken country would invent the goddamn internal combustion engine already, and downing little bottles of the local miracle cure to keep his blisters under control.

And, of course, thinking fondly about how to maximize the blast radius when he finally got the chance to splatter Yuber into paste for real. The obnoxious fuck didn’t seem to feel exhaustion at all, showing up at random points to stroll along beside the troops as if they were all just out to enjoy the scenery, and then disappearing again for hours at a time. Sometimes when he showed up he’d drop an arm around Kimberly’s shoulders as if they were old friends, and smile. It made the regular troops give Kimberly plenty of space, which was comforting and familiar, but the weight made his neck ache, so he would usually shrug Yuber off pretty fast. He’d had enough of smarmy bastards with bad fashion sense who thought their ability to kill made them clever.

*

On the third evening, after two full days of marching, he took advantage of that discomfort to shoo the guards out of the way so he could get back into the strategist’s tent.

“Did you want something?” Albert asked, without looking up. The cool tone and single arched brow were so familiar Kimberly had to smile.

“Nothing much,” Kimberly said, and was gratified to see Albert start slightly. Expecting his regular annoyance, then, instead of a new one. “Please, don’t get up.”

Albert didn’t, but one gloved hand curled into a loose fist as Kimberly came over to stand beside him. “What can I do for you, then?”

“This is fine,” Kimberly murmured, looking over Albert’s shoulder at the maps spread out on the table. None of the terrain on any of the maps looked familiar — fuck the terrain, actually; the script didn’t even look like anything he knew how to read. He licked his lips. “If I said ‘Amestria,’ would that mean anything to you at all?”

“I’m afraid not,” Albert said calmly. He made a quick, jagged note on a sheet of paper. “What is it?”

 _My homeland_ sounded ridiculously sentimental. “Where I came from,” Kimberly said instead. “Pretty far off, I’m guessing.”

Albert made a thoughtful noise. “I would expect so,” he said, making more notes. “Given how different your…alchemy…is from anything we’re familiar with here.”

“Some other point in time, maybe,” Yuber suggested. Kimberly stifled the impulse to flinch at his sudden appearance, and caught Albert doing the same thing. “Or another world entirely. Happens every once in a while, one meddling bitch or another tapping into some other world’s turning points.”

It wasn’t often that Kimberly really found himself craving a cigarette. “Ever happen in reverse?” He looked over at Yuber, meeting those creepy eyes as calmly as he could.

Yuber shrugged. “It’s possible, I suppose.” Meaning it wasn’t.

“Well, then.” Kimberly smiled at Yuber, and laid a hand on Albert’s shoulder. “I’ll leave you lovebirds alone.” Albert stiffened for a second under his hand, and Yuber smirked. Kimberly waited to see if Yuber would suggest that he stay, but it didn’t happen.

He spent the rest of the evening outside, staring up at the cloudless sky, inventing constellations from the bright wash of unfamiliar stars and listening for the noises that Albert tried not to make.

*

Yuber appeared beside him at midday, when the sun was hot enough overhead that Kimberly had taken off his jacket, and slid an arm around his waist. “You have a very distinctive scent, you know,” Yuber said, as if they were already having this conversation.

“That’s fascinating,” Kimberly said flatly.

“Blood and ashes,” Yuber purred, leaning in close. “Like a killer. Like a battlefield.” His fingers curled in Kimberly’s shirt.

Kimberly glanced over, and met Yuber’s steel-gray eye. “Your romantic lines could use some work.”

Yuber smiled pleasantly. “When I take you, there won’t be anything romantic about it.”

*

By the time the sun started to descend, the advancing army could see a bright, glittering lake on the horizon. Duck Village was down there, according to the buzz along the column, so they’d be seeing some action tomorrow at last. Kimberly stroked the flame design on the back of his left hand, feeling the way the trapped fire hummed under his skin. He hadn’t had a chance to experiment with the rune further since Yuber gave it to him, and that one little taste of the wild power had been a _tease_. He’d need to play with it a lot more, before he really felt like he knew how to use it to its full potential.

Assuming, of course, that he didn’t die tomorrow.

None of the Harmonian regulars seemed to be thinking much about that. Both of the times that Kimberly had been to war back home, there’d been a kind of…grim carnival atmosphere, the night before a big battle, men doing their best to have fun in case they never got another chance. The Harmonians, though, made camp with the same solemn quiet of the past few nights, as though this were a night like any other. Maybe it was a religious thing, Kimberly figured. The army was led by a bishop, after all. These guys probably figured they were taken care of, whatever happened.

Kimberly had no such assurances. Just because he’d cheated death once — because he was pretty sure he’d been dead, or about to be, when he got yanked out of Lior in the first place — didn’t mean he would be invulnerable next time. Probably. The rules here were bizarre, but they were still _rules_ , and this army had marched away from a field strewn with bodies a few days ago. Even in a land full of magic and miracles, people died. And since there was a chance that Kimberly would be one of them, then he was damn well going to enjoy what might be his last night on earth.

“At ease,” he told the pikemen outside Albert’s tent. It was amazing how well most soldiers took orders, as long as you seemed sure you had the right to give them. “Matter of fact, you’re dismissed for the night.”

“Sir?” asked the one who might be worth his pay.

“The camp’s secure,” Kimberly said. It was probably true. Or true enough. “You’ll be seeing combat tomorrow. Get some sleep tonight.”

The guards hesitated, and for a moment Kimberly thought he’d been too human for this particular military. But then they saluted, lifted their pikes, and stepped back. “Yes, sir.”

Kimberly ducked inside, blinking a few times to let his eyes adjust. Albert was dressed for company, even — he’d taken off his coat and that ridiculous cravat and set them carefully aside, and the plain white shirt and black trousers he wore underneath suited him well. If he were just a little paler, his hair a bit darker and less red –

On the scale of useless, distracting thoughts, that one ranked right near the top of the list.

This time Albert did look up. “I suppose you want something again,” he said calmly.

Kimberly shrugged. “It _is_ the human condition, isn’t it?”

“So you’re a philosopher, as well as a killer?” Albert asked, setting down his pen.

“I’m a man of many talents,” Kimberly agreed. He tossed his jacket on top of Albert’s, and walked closer. Albert didn’t move, didn’t rise from his seat. Kimberly supposed that any man who spooked easily would be reduced to a nervous wreck within a week of making Yuber’s acquaintance.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Albert said. “Are you going to tell me what you’re after, or shall I guess?”

Kimberly leaned against the edge of the table, close enough to reach out and touch. “I’m sure you could,” he said. “You’re clever.”

Albert nodded. “I’m sure I could. And right now, I’m wondering what’s in it for me.”

“Hmm.” Kimberly turned one hand palm-up, studying the lines. In another year or two he was going to need to have the crescent moon touched up, before the ink faded. “I could threaten you, if that would help.”

“It never really does,” Albert demurred, holding very still.

“Never?” Kimberly echoed, raising an eyebrow. “Not at all?” He reached out, rested his palm on the back of Albert’s neck. “When he has a blade at your throat, and you know how little it matters to him if you die, you don’t ever feel a little more alive?”

Albert met his eyes without flinching. “Extrapolating from your own experiences?”

Kimberly very deliberately stopped thinking about soot-black claws and cold, slitted eyes. “I don’t know where you’d get that idea.” He reached down and grabbed a fistful of the front of Albert’s shirt, and Albert didn’t fight being dragged up into a kiss.

For a few seconds, long enough to make it clear that this was a deliberate decision, Albert waited, holding perfectly still. Then his lips parted, and he made a sound into Kimberly’s mouth that sounded like a challenge.

And there was strength in that lean frame — nothing like a real soldier’s, not enough to really _fight_ him if Kimberly decided to force the issue, but enough to make this interesting for more than just the chance to annoy Yuber. Kimberly pulled him closer, reaching down to tug at the buttons of Albert’s trousers.

“You don’t, ah, waste any time, do you?” Albert asked, wry tone almost intact. He bit Kimberly’s jawline, rocking his hips toward Kimberly’s hand.

Kimberly laughed, tilting his head back to expose the sensitive spot in his throat, if Albert was going to be that helpful. “Don’t tell me you were expecting romance.”

Albert made an amused noise. “You did say you were a man of many talents, didn’t you?” He swallowed a short moan when Kimberly’s hand closed around his cock. “But I suppose romance, the night before battle, is too much to demand of any soldier.”

“He likes you for your mind, doesn’t he?” Kimberly grinned.

“Hm.” Albert shook his head. “Don’t make the mistake of thinking he _likes_ anyone. Some of us just…provide him with opportunities.”

The slitted eye was the honest one, then. “What else are people for?” Kimberly slid one hand around to get a good grip on Albert’s ass. It was fascinating, really, how little people here responded to his hands — how little they’d learned to fear. “What do you use to slick up, and where is it?”

Albert pulled back to look him in the eyes. “What makes you think I have something on hand?”

“You’re a practical man, aren’t you?” Kimberly shrugged. “I can believe he might have had you dry once. The first time. But unless you’re hiding some perverse attachment to pain, you wouldn’t let it happen again.”

“And the next question,” Albert went on, pulling free so he could reach for his coat. “Why should I let you top?”

Kimberly smiled, and held up his hands. “This,” he said, “is the part where I’ve always found that threatening people _does_ help.” He backed Albert up against the table, pressing a knee between Albert’s thighs. “I can come from detonating your heart in your chest, or from shoving my cock up your ass. But I’m not picky. I’ll let you choose.”

The way Albert’s pupils dilated might have been anger. But the way his cock twitched against Kimberly’s hip was definitely something else. “There’s only one reasonable answer a man can give, with a choice like that.” He handed Kimberly a little bottle — sort of like the ones the medicine came in.

“Eventually someone’s going to take the choice away from you,” Kimberly murmured, pulling the cork from the little bottle. This stuff, whatever it was, didn’t have the sharp herbal scent of the medicine.

“Did that ever stop you?” Albert asked, finishing with the buttons Kimberly had abandoned earlier, letting his trousers fall.

“You assume too much,” Kimberly said, grabbing Albert by the collar and turning him, pushing him down over the table. “I do my own killing. It changes things.”

Albert laughed shortly. “Less than you’d think,” he retorted, and then his hands clawed at the scatter of parchment on the table as Kimberly pushed two slicked fingers into him. “I’m not, ah, completely without, hh, resources in that respect.”

Kimberly smiled. “Of course not. You’d be nobody, nothing, without some means of power.” He pushed deep, pressed forward to rub the trigger spot inside and watch Albert’s reaction. “And then he’d have killed you ages ago, before I ever got the chance to dream about it.” Albert writhed under him, hissing through clenched teeth like he’d had long practice with being fucked in places where it’d matter if he was discovered. Kimberly reached for his trouser buttons with his free hand.

There was something almost too familiar about this, something that denied the strangeness of being — he believed it, despite how little sense it made — in another _world_. It should have been alien. But sex was the same everywhere, it seemed, the cool slick against sensitive skin and the reluctant yielding of tight muscle and then the lush heat of being buried inside someone else’s body. Albert shuddered, breathed something that Kimberly would have bet was a curse, and then made a visible effort to relax.

“Too fast?” Kimberly murmured, pulling back, thrusting deeper the second time.

Albert hissed. “You know it was.”

Kimberly curled his hands around Albert’s hips, tried to remind himself to take his time and not rush this. “You’re still not telling me to stop, are you.”

“Is that what it takes for you?” Albert looked back over his shoulder, his lips twisted in a smirk that was almost composed despite the cock in his ass. “No, please, you’re hurting me, stop it?”

“Hm.” Kimberly smirked. “Say yes, say no, recite the troop statistics for tomorrow’s action, whatever gets you going. Your mouth isn’t what I’m here for.”

“You’re missing out,” Yuber purred, light flaring, the air crackling around him as he appeared. Kimberly tried not to flinch, when Yuber stepped up to him — but Yuber didn’t draw his blades, didn’t seem to be any more in the mood to fight than usual. Instead he pressed up close against Kimberly’s back, his breath hot on Kimberly’s neck. “He has no gag reflex at all.”

Albert made an outraged noise, and Kimberly thrust in hard, looking back at Yuber. “Go ahead, then. You like his mouth so much, you take it.”

Yuber laughed. “Generous of you to offer,” he murmured, “but I had something else in mind.” His fingers curled in the waistband of Kimberly’s trousers.

“You do that, I’m going to kill you after,” Kimberly promised, and Yuber tugged his trousers down.

“You wouldn’t be the first,” Yuber said, and Kimberly could hear the rustle of cloth from behind him, could feel Yuber’s cock press against the crack of his ass.

“Fuck,” Kimberly growled, twisting in Yuber’s grip, reaching for the bottle he’d set down a minute earlier. “Slick up, at least, you son of a bitch.”

Yuber sighed, a puff of hot air that raised the hairs on the back of Kimberly’s neck. “You mortals are so fussy about being damaged.” Still, he took the bottle — and if it felt too big and too sudden when he pushed in, at least it was slick enough to move.

Kimberly tightened his grip on Albert’s hips and shuddered, letting himself be pushed forward and deeper into Albert’s ass, biting back the impulse to curse. No way he was going to show weakness in front of _either_ of these bastards, and if that meant being able to take Yuber’s cock without complaining, well, he’d just have to suffer, wouldn’t he?

Yuber felt just as inhuman as the last monster Kimberly slept with, in totally different ways — he was too hot, instead of too cold, his bare skin feverish and his cock almost uncomfortably warm. Yuber’s…magic…didn’t feel quite like the alchemy of harnessed red stone, either, but there was just enough similarity to make tension crawl under Kimberly’s skin, to make him hiss and shiver.

And Albert bucked under him, pushing back. “ _Move_ ,” he demanded hoarsely. “Come on.”

Kimberly rocked his hips, feeling the way Yuber’s cock moved in him at the same time that his moved in Albert, the sensations confused and hot — slick and stinging at the same time, all three of them breathing hard, soft harsh noises in the still air of the tent — and Albert moving, sliding his hand down under himself, good thing he had the sense to take care of that, because Kimberly had too much to deal with already, every thrust just on the edge of pain — only the kind of pain that made his balls draw tight, hard careless use that made him grit his teeth and try to hang on, because he _wasn’t_ going to finish first — and it took all the concentration he could come up with to control the alchemical reaction as his fingertips traced the curve inside Albert’s hipbones, to singe instead of destroying outright –

But it worked, made Albert choke out a cry of pain and come from the shock of it, shuddering and clenching around Kimberly’s cock, and that was better — and then there was Yuber cooing at him, asking how long it had been since he’d let a man fuck his sweet ass, and Kimberly already knew the answer for that — “You’re no man,” he panted, and Yuber laughed, fucking him harder — the heat was too much to take, the heat and the pressure, and Albert under him shaking and half-swallowing little defeated sounds — and when he came he could feel the rune’s energy licking down his nerves, the bright raw power just _aching_ to be used.

But not now, not when he couldn’t be sure he could control it, no matter how satisfying it would be to immolate Yuber now instead of leaning forward, bracing his hands on the table on either side of Albert, and letting Yuber keep fucking him. The inhuman heat of Yuber’s body was getting harder to take, but fuck, if Albert could take this, there was no way Kimberly was going to complain. Instead he reached back, got a hand on Yuber’s thigh, shoved a few molecules out of alignment — the first time he had messed with Yuber’s body chemistry he hadn’t been paying enough attention, but doing it more slowly he could feel it, the weird elastic bonds that let Yuber’s flesh re-organize when Kimberly made it unstable — _different_ somehow, like Yuber’s natural state was this shifting potential. Kimberly’s second try made Yuber twitch and snarl, and then some kind of energy backlash back through the array made Kimberly jerk back, hissing, as Yuber drove into him one last time and came.

So. Both of them responded to his arrays after all.

He was starting to think he had a type.

Kimberly pushed backward, and when that didn’t help, he elbowed Yuber in the ribs to make the bastard pull out so he could get up off the table, and off Albert.

Albert pulled himself upright, looking from Kimberly to Yuber and back again, remarkably composed considering the position he’d just been in. “Get what you wanted?” he asked dryly, one eyebrow raised.

“I got what I came here for.” Kimberly shrugged. He pulled up his trousers and buttoned them — he could clean up somewhere else. “See you in the morning,” he said, and then habit made him add, “sir.”

He was fairly certain he saw Yuber smirk as he left.

*

The dawn air tasted of wet earth and new growth. Kimberly sat outside, hands resting on his knees, and watched the sun rise as the camp came awake. It was a good day to die.

He felt Yuber appear, the twist in the air, before the monster stepped up beside him.

“You didn’t kill me last night,” Yuber said.

Kimberly didn’t turn to look at him. “You sound so disappointed.”

“You’re interesting, for a mortal.” Yuber’s gloved fingers brushed the back of Kimberly’s neck.

“So I’ve been told.” Kimberly shrugged him off and stood, stretching. “See you on the battlefield.”


End file.
